


I Dream

by The_Peridot_Writer



Category: Notre-Dame de Paris | The Hunchback of Notre-Dame - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-04-23 18:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19156738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Peridot_Writer/pseuds/The_Peridot_Writer
Summary: Esmeralda leaves her husband and Paris because of the threats coming from the king. She promises to return while Frollo becomes sick with fear that she never will.





	1. Chapter 1

**I Dream**

**Summary: Esmeralda leaves her husband and Paris because of the threats coming from the king. She promises to return while Frollo becomes sick with fear that she never will.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunchback of Notre-Dame or any of its plots and characters. This is simply for entertainment purposes. All rights belong to Disney and Victor Hugo.**

**Song: Sogno by Andrea Bocelli**

_Va, ti aspettero_

_Il fiore nel giardino segna il tempo_

_Qui disgnero il giorno poi del tuo ritorno_

            _“I’ll return to you. I promise.”_ Two years. He had heard those words two years ago that day. Claude got out of bed as the bells struck seven in the morning. Another sleepless night. By then, he expected it for he couldn’t sleep without her. He never could. And each night, the words reiterated relentlessly in his mind, another feeling of dread and sorrow washing over him. It was the same thing every night. And it was all because he gave her permission. He shouldn’t have agreed. He shouldn’t have let her go no matter how much she insisted that she would be alright. True, she never said when she would be back but she said she would and they had no method of communicating. He didn’t know where to send the many letters he wrote out. Claude thought that the most she would be gone were a couple of months. Not two full years.

            The king and his men had searched the city thoroughly, not discovering a single gypsy for none remained. Several gypsies had returned, roaming the streets, but that was all. There had been no festivals, no dancing in the city from anyone. The Court of Miracles was desolate, hushed. There were no signs that anyone had been there either, all evidence of the inhabitants gone. It was just an abandoned court underground. The gypsies that had returned to Paris caused no trouble, no havoc, nothing. In fact, they themselves looked hollow, a shell of what they once were. It was almost as though they lost something of importance to them. Frollo hoped that it was not their queen that they lost.

            The days without her were dismal, bleak and dreary. Hell, even that didn’t describe it. Nothing could. Half the time, the minister would check to see if he was still alive, if his heart was still beating and every time, to his dismay, it was. Yet he barely considered himself alive. Hell, he scoffed at the thought of truly living without her. His wife, soul mate, love was gone and he didn’t know if he’d ever see her again. That was what shook him to his very core. He woke up every single morning, praying that she would wake up with him wherever she was. But that was all he could do… Hope and pray.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sei cosi sicura del mio amore_

_Da portalro via con te_

_Chiuso nelle mani_

_Che ti por ti al viso_

            Frollo glanced over to her side of the bed that remained empty. He never washed the sheets since she left either. He knew how disgusting it was perceived but he couldn’t bring himself to for they smelled too much like her and was the only thing that prevailed of her. That was the only thing he had left. She had taken everything else with her, including his love.

            He remained in the Palace of Justice just working for he had nothing left. He no longer tortured people to punish or get information. No, he abandoned that long ago, ever since she agreed to truly be his. He had stopped suddenly out of fear that she would hesitate and then go back on her word. He left the gypsies alone as he ensured and she kept her part of the deal, although it always seemed in the beginning she was having second thoughts.

            Claude never thought that she would have the courage to go back on her word but one time, she had done just that. She had ran out in abhorrence, consternation or outrage. He didn’t know which one, still to that day. Even when he finally found her and basically carried her back to the Palace of Justice, she still stood her ground. She was still Esmeralda, the gypsy girl who never backed down, even through everything she had endured. That was one of the many reasons he fell so deeply in love with her, for her defiance and intrepidity that never ceased or weakened. But that was also the reason why she wasn’t laying next to him that very minute. Both of them knew that if Claude was caught taking care of gypsies, nonetheless, married to one, it would be an act of treason against the king. Not only would Esmeralda be killed, but Claude would follow shortly after.

            It made no difference on how much he had insisted she stayed, that Quasimodo could harbor her, she refused. She said that it would be safer for the both of them, that there was always a gamble if she remained. He had reluctantly agreed and how he despised himself for doing so.

            It had been so sudden as well. Days before he received the letter from the king, everything had been fine. In the letter, it had been decreed that all gypsies found in Paris were to be killed on the spot. When the news had spread, the streets became invaded with the travelers as they all rushed to leave and all of a sudden, just as quickly as it began, it was quiet. Only one other gypsy besides Esmeralda had lingered behind: Clopin Trouillefou, the Gypsy King loited, waiting for her as she tried to talk Claude into letting her go.

            He remembered exactly what he had said to her before she left. _“You carry my love, life and heart with you when you leave. Die and they go with you. Die and I will follow. For I cannot and will not live without out”._ He hadn’t been exaggerating either. She was absolutely everything to him and if she were to leave, he would follow not long after. She held his life within the palm of her hand, clutching onto it, never once loosening her hold.

            “Any word from her?” he asked a maid each and every morning before he went to breakfast and every single time, he would get the same answer in return.

            “No, Minister Frollo,” the maid would say and then scamper off as though she had just saw a ghost, as though terrified that her answer would anger him and he would bring his wraith down upon her. Although he no longer killed and rarely tortured (only doing so to the exceptionally horrendous people such as murderers and rapists), he still held his temper and icy exterior. He was known to snap at the most unexpected of times. By how unpredictable the man was, that was why one was to know better than to stick around, especially if the day wasn’t one of the good ones. Esmeralda was an exception to his usual personality. However, during certain times, the danger lurked closely and was revealed, giving the reason why the Gypsy Queen had ran off. That was when Frollo vowed to control his temper even if it seemed that it would get the best of him towards the end. Despite his attempts, everyone was more than wary, waiting for a potential snap in their minister despite the fact they barely existed anymore.

            Claude scoffed softly when he replayed the scene again in his mind. He had gotten annoyed by how many times she stuck up for gypsy children or just her people in general. It was stupid on his part. What did he expect the Gypsy Queen to do? Watch her people get discriminated against and do nothing? When she ran off, anger and sadness rushing through her veins, because of him… That was the first time his heart shattered.


	3. Chapter 3

_Ripensando ancora a me_

_E se ti servira lo mostri al mondo_

_Che non sa che vit c’e nel cuore che distratto sembre assente_

_Non sa che vita c’e in quello che soltanto il cuore sante_

_Non sa_

He entered the large dining room, paying no attention to the maid as she put breakfast in front of him. He muttered an aloof and frigid “thanks” before she departed but once more, felt no desire to eat. He only did so because he wouldn’t be able to concentrate when his stomach protested at the decision he made earlier that day. Claude didn’t look at his food, taking small bites as he kept his gaze locked on the chair that’s owner was elsewhere, displaced from where she should truly be.

            She should be sitting across from him, striking up lively conversation, telling embarrassing stories from her childhood and forcing Claude to do the same to which he would take at least five minutes deliberately and attempting to find a moment in his stern, quiet, and strict childhood. He reluctantly told her, never truly enjoying revealing the stories but when she smiled and laughed, he couldn’t care less. He would do anything to just see her smile, hear her laugh that was a sweet, sweet melody to his ears, knowing that he was the one that caused the cheerfulness. But she was gone, so was her light, her cheerfulness and therefore, his happiness, his joy. The conversations were gone and life returned to how it was before she had come into it.

            Claude knew that his life was… stale, if that was the word. He knew that it always lacked something. It didn’t lack a child, an object or anything that could easily be found. No, it was something he had to earn. It lacked someone to love and someone who loved him back. He knew that Quasimodo loved him in one shape, way, or form and he in return. He was his master, after all. But that wasn’t it. No. He needed the love that Esmeralda gave him. He needed to see that twinkle of admiration in her stunning emerald eyes whenever she saw him, needed to feel that loved filled kiss against his lips, that comforting hold after a bad nightmare and words of love and reassurance to calm him. That was what he truly needed.

            He no longer had anything to offer to this world. Everything he had was ripped away from him. She now owned it all and she kept it with her. The only thing that had remained was hope for her return and even then, it was slowly being torn away, bit by bit, second by second and he was oblivious on what to do if every little piece of the hope left, ripped from him, never to return, even if he got all the reassurance in the world.

            Claude made his way to his office, glancing over at a room next to his where she could stay if not in town. The room held nothing now but it only had some shawls and a few tambourines ranging in sizes at the most. Sometimes, when he was working, he heard quiet music from the room next to him and found himself rather enjoying the soft jingles of the tambourines. They relaxed him, soothed him as he worked.

            And then there was the goat that always remained by her side, trotting along and acting like her protector. He had to admit it himself, he did find that adorable and charming in many ways, even if he refused to reveal it. And as if Esmeralda knew about his secret admiration for the little pest, as he put it, she would tease him endlessly about it. He, in return, would deny it and continue on. Hell, even Djali seemed as if he was mocking Claude. The minister would reply with a light nudge and then leave, only for the both of them to follow him around. He would never admit it for he held too much pride and dignity. Why should he anyways? Besides, the loss of dignity, the loss of peace would come swiftly after.

            Claude had even threatened to get rid of Djali if he continued to annoy him but the lack of authority behind the threat simply caused Esmeralda to roll her eyes and smile. He earned himself a small kiss as well. Maybe he should threaten her more often. Well, not burn down all of Paris threaten but threaten nonetheless.

            Now, besides Esmeralda, all he could think about was that goat. He never could have suspected in his entire life to feel such sorrow for any annoying little goat who no longer bleated angrily at him or ate the flowers in his garden. Like the saying, God works in mysterious ways and how Claude’s life had turned around from the Festival of Fools was nothing short of mysterious.

 


	4. Chapter 4

_Qui ti aspettero_

_E rubero i baci al tempo_

_Tempo che non basta a cancellera coi ricordi il desiderio che_

_Ripensando a me e ti a compagnera passarda le cita da me_

            The bells struck eight and Frollo was debating whether or not he should skip work that day and spend it with Quasimodo. He would visit him at least one time during the span of the day. Depending on work, that was really what the visit was based upon. But for two years, there was a different factor. In the beginning, he refused to see Quasimodo over everything that had happened. Besides, it wasn’t as though Quasimodo was lonely. He had a certain gypsy that would spend most of her time there since she was forbidden of leaving the cathedral and the Palace of Justice.

            As time progressed, so had his relationship with Esmeralda. He had decided to stay during a visit. While it was rather awkward, the unspoken tension lingering in the room, he decided to act upon that. Frollo talked to his hunchback son and even though he almost slipped more than once temper wise, they were able to patch things up, resulting in him joining Esmeralda whenever she decided to see him, which was usually once a day.

            She took the time out of her day to ensure that she visited Quasimodo. If it had slipped her mind and she suddenly remembered, she would stop with what she was doing and visit him, offering Claude to come. That was one of her most endearing qualities that he discovered as the days rolled by with her. He had truly saw what she had to offer and to his surprise, she was the exact opposite of what he perceived her to be but yet, it truly wasn’t that shocking all honesty. Well, maybe it was? He wasn’t entirely sure. All he knew was that there was always something new to discover about her, whether it be a personality trait or something about her past. Claude was always eager to discover it.

            But what he enjoyed doing more than anything with her was to take a day off with her and just talk, learn more about her and her about him although he himself didn’t have too much to say to her about his past. _“You have to have something about your past,”_ Esmeralda had said, prodding him to tell her. He remembered the whole conversation of it, every single word.

            _“No, my dear. I do not. My childhood was rather bleak and dreary, strict due to my father. The only major thing that had happened was when my younger brother, Jehan, came into my life and…”_ He had trailed off, his parents and only sibling a rather unpredictable subject for Claude. He often couldn’t predict his temper nor his sadness when it was brought up. He made it clear to Esmeralda to not bring up his past and he wasn’t entirely sure why that moment had been different and why he had just revealed that, even if it was just a minor detail.

            _“And what?”_ Esmeralda silently urged him to continue when he stopped talking, not knowing the amount of pain and grief she was causing him when she asked about his past.

            _“I’d rather not say it,”_ he would mumble.

            _“I tell you everything you ask. I feel it’s only fair if you tell me. I mean-.”_ She was cut off by Claude’s short patience.

            _“Leave it alone!”_ He yelled, standing up and out of his chair, not thinking as he had quickly grabbed her arms, gripping onto them tightly and staring into her emerald eyes. _“Leave. It. Alone,”_ he repeated venomously. _“Do you understand me?!”_ The gypsy nodded mutely, her eyes narrowing as she bit back a crude remark. He let her go, regaining control over his temper and watching in guilt and regret as she rubbed her arms where he had so harshly grabbed her. _“I’m sorry,”_ he apologized. She said nothing as she stood and started to leave. Claude closed his eyes in regret as the door slammed shut behind her.

            As Claude thought back to the moment, a new thought emerged. “Meridian!” he called over his maid. “Meridian, what day is it?” he inquired her.

            “May seventh, I believe,” she responded. He nodded and dismissed her to which she hurriedly left, not wishing to linger too long.


End file.
